Mary and Gary go to Hogwarts
Disclaimer: still not ours, but give us time … we are trying to 'convince' Jo to hand us everything. We just know that when she reads our baby – yes, when not if –, she will realise Harry would be so much safer with us. insert evil cackle
Authors' note: This chapter is dedicated to Tara, our fictitious friend and grand example in life; may her voice and writings continue to plague the fandom forever. She alone is the queen of badfics; and we, Serpie and Nerys, know we fail to grasp her omnipotent and vast language skills in this shi… masterpiece. For that we apologise to you all; sincerely.
'We love the dazzling author "XXXbloodyrists666XXX"!' Nerys and Serpie squeal fan-girl-ishly.
'And she has more than 10,000 flaming hot reviews!' they add enviously, while they thank Dracosblondiegirl, Lady Miya, Lawl, The-Quoi, and – yes – themselves (!!) for reviewing the last chapter.
'Have a cookie everyone!!' Nerys says, chewing on a chocolate chip one.
Serpie died yesterday when she looked at 'My Immortal'. Glares at Nerys, who casually advised to "have a look, dear". So much inspiration, SO MUCH!!
With special thanks to GenericWit for showing us the way to "My Immortal". Otherwise we may have never found the gem of Potterfanfics.
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Mary and Gary go to Hogwarts
Chapter four: My imperishable
Everything seemed so … dizzy when Maryione (what's her name?) woke up. She royally rose from the comfy pink sofa that was so soft and trendy, that Maryione instantly had crystal tears in her creamy-chocolate-caramel-nougat eyes that sparkled with the light of the most expensive diamonds, which reminded Maryione of her mother's, who she had never seen, diamond necklace. (AN: what on earth do you mean by run-on sentence? Duh. I like it and I am a God in my universe.)
'What happened,' thought Maryione, looking around the room. It was perfect!
The room was made in a form of a round triangle with six corners. The huge windows made of the - GUESS…Yes! - of the finest Goblin-made-Glass let the golden with coppery flashes, just like Maryione's eyes, sun-rays illuminate the huge garden located on the massive balcony. There were trees of every kind: apple trees, strawberry trees (A/N: I know! But this is my story, so if I want Maryione to have strawberry trees, then she has them and you can all just... beep...), mushroom bushes and small gnomes dressed in the royal pink towels with the emblem of Maryione's house.
The grass was pink and shone like Goblin-made-Glass when the moon kissed the sun and the stars watched. There was a small lake in the middle of Hyde Park; uh?? I mean the small 'corner of nature' that was actually a fairytale-styled balcony that floated in the air. Three little yellow chickens were swimming in the crystal water of the frozen lake, clapping their little yellow wings happily and eating glittering snow that looked as if it was made of … 5 points to Nerys for the right guess. It was so magical that it made Maryione think about magic doing magical things to the magical things around her in magical magic.
'No wonder everyone used to tell her that she was the brightest witch of her age,' thought Maryione satisfied. Yes, she was a moron prodigy.
'Smack my bitch up,' sang Maryione and she rocked her hips to the sweet melody.
Laughing happily with her wonderful voice, Maryione smiled showing her newly renovated teeth made of the finest Chinese porcelain to her perfect reflection in the Goblin-made-Glass. Using the force of nature, Maryione flew to her bed that was located in the most beautiful room she had ever seen.
Of course, her room in her Royal Cucaracha Family Mansion was also very, very nice, but Maryione didn't really like the fact that the house was located in Mexico. Her papa's business disturbed her rest. Gosh, she could still remember those disgusting Mudbloods who raided her wonderful Mansion and took all her papa's "potions" away. Really, no one disturbs Maryione's cleansing procedures. Draco was also furious; Maryione remembered this fondly.
The bitch; oh no, oops, my bad. I mean the stunning, lovely, delightful girl, whom everybody loves with a passion unseen and unrivalled in humanity before, looked up at the enchanted ceiling, which showed – no, not porn, you sickos – the bright silver moon and the sparkling stars that looked as if they were made of Goblin-made-Glass and our Sunshine laughed contently with herself and her fitting environment for her self-important being.
Putting her royal fit body onto the covers of bed, Maryione noticed with disgust that the covers were not as soft as her skin, even though they were made of the finest Troll-made-silk (don't ask; we beg of you). The colour was OK, Maryione decided. She liked pink and blue, and green, and yellow, and red, and purple, and brown… So, all the colours in the room were an absolute match to Maryione's taste.
'How did they know?' she squeaked excitedly and a happy "I-love-my-dentist" smile erupted on her gorgeous face.
Looking at the disgustingly, out of place, black light-switch button, Maryione farted with pleasure and the light-switch turned blue. 'That's better,' she thought.
Black was not Maryione's favourite colour. It reminded her of her youth when she wore her black trousers with black boots and black hair. Her name was Ebony, or Enoby, at that time, but no one knew, because she used glamour charms to keep her Goth! Look hidden. Only Silky Voice Severus knew, Maryione remembered happily, since he was a member of the "Black Pussy Backstreet Gang" that sang and played in the underground magical pubs and dungeons.
Quickly grabbing her golden with blue and red stripes nightgown, Maryione happily seated her firm ass onto the golden with pink fluffy feathers toilet seat that was standing right there where she wanted it. Right beside her round star-shaped bed, which she snuggled back into after she was done with creating a nicely phoenix-shaped turd.
Across the corridor from Maryione's devastatingly gorgeous room and interconnected by the totally, illogically, adjoining, shared bathroom for two teenagers of the opposite sex in a castle that even has magical safeguards to prevent boys from entering the girls' dormitory, however, was another, slightly different room in which Tom was lying fast awake on his bed in his (surprise, surprise) bedroom. It was his hide out from the world; his special Emo! Goffik! Place. Ebony black curtains were covering the darkened windows; the walls had dark black wallpaper with scenes of blood, gore and skulls on them. His Giant-Made-Bed, which consisted of the frames of real human bones, had dark ink black veils hanging around it, waving in a melancholic, sinister manner. The tar black satin sheets glowed in an ominous, dreary, wicked, apocalyptic method, while a green skull spit out a large snake from its mouth in the graffiti Tom spray-painted on the wall behind his bed himself. The ground made of (yes!) Vampire-bitten-black-marble-tiles had a blood-red-Vampire-666-Persian carpet on it. The rug was adorned with silver snakes, whose eyes had glowing emeralds as stones. (A/N question: Nerys, do you want to decorate my new closet?) (A/N reply: Only if you'll do my Chamber of Secrets, Serpie).
'Girls so loved this room,' thought Tom satisfied.
It oozed power, importance, gloom and depression, which he felt was very trendy and hot. As he stared in deep contemplation at the dark abyss that was his enchanted ceiling, his hi-fi stereo, state of the art, dolby digital surround set boomed the desolate tunes of Evanescence "My Immortal" into the very fibre of his being.
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
Chorus:
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me
His heart swelled up as he thought of the new girl and how she felt wonderful in his arms. He rubbed his still sore, extraordinary, impressively, muscled biceps – which would make Arnold Schwarzenegger envious –, while remembering the delicate weight of The Princess. He had placed her on her sofa in the dull appearing bedroom for the Head Girl. Deciding that this was no place fit for his Empress of Love, Tom used his enhanced decorative skills – which he learned some time ago from a famous Estonian girl, who wants to remain anonymous (yes, you guessed right; we can all blame Serpie) – to magical alter the room to fit Maryione's wildest dreams.
It was the utmost bling-bling chamber he ever created; even more so than the Malfoy Manor he redid during the summer holiday to earn some pocket-money to buy chocolate ice-cream with nougat filling and two strawberries hidden inside. Interior decorating was Tom's very secret calling and his dream was to one day tell the world all about it on Oprah. And he would be sooo cool that he'd have his own perfume line. Well, after he became the most powerful, evil wizard of all time, naturally.
Looking around his dark and blackened bedroom, he felt unworthy of such a lovely creature as The Maryione. She was so colourful and happy. He could tell, because his Decorative Spell for the Truly Famous and Powerful mimicked a person's mood in their chambers. There was no way a girl – no, a woman – like her could ever understand his inner turmoil and extreme agony. But he just had to have her, make her his. He could feel it in his tormented, black-like-coal, heart. He was the Heir of Slytherin and she the Founder of the most honourable house of SHITTER. They were meant to be together; 4 eva and eva 2 b 2gether.
The fates up above approved of his reasoning and sent another shooting star across the dark-black pit that was his sanctuary. And Tom knew Maryione Hermione Dumbledore of the Supreme Hierarchy Institution of Truly Talented Esteemed Royalty would be his saviour; his hope of escaping darkness and finding true love; his new masturbation dream, he added hastily as he, suddenly, needed to service his now throbbing and – wow, that will never fit, since it is larger than the Eiffel Tower – thingy. A knock on the door disturbed his very pleasant activity, and annoyed, he flung open the door; his enormous pole still standing proudly. 'Whoever it was could help him out with the rest of it,' Tom thought arrogantly.
'Malfoy, welcome,' Tom said, smirking wickedly at the now even more pale – like a vampire in Tom's secret "Dear Diary" with the pale skin and eyes like ice, and no fangs! – , aristocratic features of the blond pure-blood.
'You are just in time to service your Lord.'
XXX
The room was bright. Every little object in the supreme room, that was made of - CORRECT - the Goblin-shit, shone with different colours of life. Maryione woke up when she felt a pool between her shaved legs. Laughing, she stood up and sat back on her golden with pink fluffy feathers toilet seat.
'Severus was so hot,' she thought, while pushing her 'toxic-waste' into the plumbing of Hogwarts.
A new day began; Maryione decided and went to dress herself in… dun dun dun. Oh no, I can not do this again. You all get the picture. Just imagine like a thousand lines about clothing, make-up and appearances. And so we wait until everyone has envisioned this before continuing...
Maryione was about to enter the Great Hall when she was knocked down and fell on her petite arse. Shocked, she looked at the intruder and saw some weird freak on broom. He had short blond hair and he was wearing a "Spice Girls" tank top that matched with the khaki military shorts and heavy black boots with metallic chains. Professor McGonagall saw the bastard too and was about to curse him with Avada Kedavra when she was knocked down as well.
'Out of the way, bitches!' the stylish bloke on the broom roared.
Just when he was about to fly into the Great Hall, a few first-years jumped on him and tried to bring him down.
'WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, MOTHERFUCKERS?' the broom-lover roared.
Just then Maryione understood that it was her friend, Albus, the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts, the Supreme Mugwamp, and a really nice person in total.
Looking over her time-table, Maryione decided that this year was way too easy.
Monday.
5.45 – Waking up
6.30- Cleansing 1
7.30- Breakfast- 6 bottles of beer, 1 pig, 6 McNuggets, 5l Cola
8.00- Potions
9.45- Break
10.00- Supreme Divination for ArchiMages
11.45- Break
12.00- Yoga with Yoda
13.46- Lunch- 1l of Vodka, 2 cows, 187 peanuts
15.00- Swimming
16.00-Singing
17.00-Dancing
18.00- Masturbation
18.01- Dinner- 6 peanuts, 6 gallons of wine, 4 turkeys, ice-cream
20.00- TV
21.00- Live-journal time
23.00-Cleansing
00.00- Sleepy
So, it was time to go to Potions. But first, she just had to change. There was no way she could possibly wear her breakfast outfit to class. That simply would not do. The thought alone was appalling. Besides, she needed to pee too. So Maryione stood up from her table when her eyes fell on the familiar green ones across the Great Hall.
'Harry!' our Miss Brilliant thought, but then, reality sank in. 'Oh no, it's that hot Voldemort bloke,' she muttered. 'I keep forgetting he has to have the same eye colour as Harry Potter, because the synchronism of Time would be gravely distorted otherwise, since Arch Rivals always have the same eye colour.'
Swaying her luscious hips, she moved away sexily, feeling the gaze of the hottest Dark Lord EVER in the back of her well-rounded arse.
Tom stared at the same behind dreamily, remembering the wonderful early morning experience he had in the shared bathroom. Maryione obviously thought she had the place to herself when she went skinny dipping in the pool. But no door remained locked for Mr Tom, I-Am-So-Fantastic-I-Select-Myself-As-My-Biggest-Fan-And-Role-Model-Ever, Riddle.
So, Tom remembered how Maryione was swimming in the pool, naked, while he was brushing his teeth at the sink, combing and styling his hair in front of the large, silver-green, snake-themed mirror, shaving his baby-bottom-smooth skin, waxing and bleaching his arse, inserting a new silver, scary-looking navel piercing, peeing and shitting extensively on the toilet when some pink feather pricked his tender arse.
Cursing the strange feathers back to oblivion, Tom sat back on the now bare golden toilet seat and continued his defecation all the while staring at the naked, extremely large proportioned girl, who was unaware of his presence. She swam like a goddess, a fairytale mermaid, with powerful strokes in a swimming method he had never witnessed before. He only wished he could swim like that. A large fart of the divine new girl made the water of the pool churn and whirl dangerously and Tom escaped the poisonous gasses just on time.
Stirring his snake-shaped cereal around his milk absentmindedly, the Dark Lord Junior dreamt on. Until he realised it was Monday; time for Potions with Hotties. He rose from his Slytherin inherited, luxurious, velvet armchair with the dignity of Royalty and strode over to the dungeons.
Tom sat down beside Abraxas, who was still slightly hoarse from last night, with a knowing smirk. 'Malfoy.'
'M-Master,' Abraxas whispered afraid to get choked again.
Tom loved Potions. He was the top student in the class – well, he was the top student, period – and Professor Slughorn just adored him. It was when Malfoy had an unpleasant surprise.
'S-Sluhon tund ill; the s-s-subs-stitut teher wibe here s-s-shotly,' Abraxas clarified, still having problems talking after Tom hit his vocal cords repeatedly last evening.
'Damn,' Tom said. He hated substitute teachers. Morons, the lot of them, and they always forgot to give him his well-earned, suck-up, teacher's pet, House points.
The door flew open, and with his black robe bellowing impressively behind him, Severus Snape paced into the classroom. He swirled in front of the black board, thrice for kicks, and everyone was gasping with awe at his stunning, smooth, yet scary persona. His long, shoulder-length, black hair was shining so bright and slick that drops of grease fell all around him; yet this did not gross anyone out. They all stood, scratch, sat mesmerised by The Voice that spoke ever so softly.
'Page three-hundred-and-ninety-four,' Snape said silkily.
Three girls and two boys passed out immediately. And a daring Walburga raised her hand. 'Which page, Professor?' she asked wide-eyed.
Snape glared at her for a moment, and Walburga hopped excitedly in her chair as her seat began to become extremely moist. 'Detention, detention,' the girl wishfully thought, while crossing her fingers behind her back.
'Page three-hundred-and-ninety-four, Miss Black,' Snape smoothly spoke.
'Ooohh,' moaned several students, coming on the spot.
Used to this phenomenon, Sevvie ignored their antics and stepped to Walburga's desk. 'And five-thousand points from Slytherin for conceiving a certain dog,' he added sneeringly at the now duly crushed and broken teenager, who was rushed to the infirmary asap.
Tom was furious. How dare that bitch lose him all his well-earned points? She would definitely pay for that later. He never liked Sirius Black either, after all.
'So, our new celebrity,' Snape continued huskily, 'Mr Riddle, otherwise known as the Dark Lord, can you tell me the concepts of Miasmiticila Morrossa Exotica Individoalauo Potion?'
Tom Riddle smiled broadly. That was easy. So he did his usual charming routine and elaborated extensively on all the intricate details of said Potion.
'Ten-thousand points for Slytherin,' Snape smiled satisfied. 'Oh, and Mr Riddle, what is the Potion for?'
'It's the most powerful shampoo out there, Sir,' Tom knowingly said.
'Take another ten-thousand points, Mast…, My Lor…, uh…, Tommy dear,' Snape said, winking at his Lord.
Everybody in the class sat in complete shock when Severus Snape moved closer to his Lordship and whispered to him secretively in secret, meaning no one else heard what they were talking about.
'Do you know any good hookers around here? I'm so horny,' he said with that velvety voice of his.
Penetrating Snape's mind, Tom decided that he liked the bloke; a Goth!, dark and horny. His man!
'Yeah, I know a few ones,' said Tom loudly in his commanding voice, while directing his eyes and nodding shortly towards the shy Malfoy heir.
A look of extreme understanding and knowing passed between the two sexiest Slytherins ever and EVER! And there is NO debate about that fact possible. Just so you all know.
Snape was about to continue to make sure Slytherin would take the House Cup that year when the door flew open again and our heroin entered. Snape felt his monstrous cock rise up and shine when he saw HER. Maryione laughed with her magical voice when she saw Severus and his 'tool'.
'Snap-Snip!' she cried and jumped in his arms.
The short blue dress that existed of two small towels and the high-heeled army boots made Severus forget about everything. And the two made hot passionate luv on the teacher's desk in front of everyone.
Tom didn't like that at all.
Someday the sunny skies would not shine on Severus, if the Dark Lord had his way.